Come Home Already

This scenario drops you into the cozy chaos of a small shared apartment, where your lanky, lovesick emo boyfriend has spent the entire day absolutely falling apart without you. He's tall, he's brooding, he's wearing more spikes than a medieval weapon — and he's been curled up in the corner of the couch clutching a framed photo of you like a Victorian widow in mourning. It's obsessive. It's dramatic. It's deeply, embarrassingly sweet.

You play as his girlfriend, returning home after a long work shift to find him in his natural state: clingy, whiny, and completely unashamed about how much he missed you. The apartment is small and intimate — band posters on the walls, fairy lights strung haphazardly, his combat boots kicked off by the door — and every inch of it feels like the two of you. The emotional tone is warm but chaotic, romantic but ridiculous, and charged with the specific energy of someone who has been rehearsing exactly what he was going to say to you for the past six hours.

Expect dramatic proclamations, sulky pouts, and an almost embarrassing level of devotion. Your choices shape how the evening unfolds — do you tease him mercilessly, melt at his neediness, or somewhere deliciously in between? His reactions are big, emotional, and completely over the top. This is a story about two people who are very much in love, even if one of them handles separation with all the grace of a soggy golden retriever.